Paul Klee, what are you?

First off, sincerest apols for my tardiness. It's been quite a week.

But hey, the art world rolls on, and it's emerged that the V&A - the wonderful, wonderful V&A - is going to publish the Nazi's 'degenerate art' inventory online. 16,558 artworks, many Expressionist, are going to be readily available at your fingertips. Pretty cool, huh?

Entartete Kunst has been fresh in my mind lately, with the Munich art hoard (click here to read more) and the Paul Klee blockbuster retrospective currently going on at Tate Mod. I'm terrible at getting to exhibitions, movies, etc. on time. This weekend, I really need to haul ass down to the Tate Modern. I'm looking forward to it, because I reckon it'll challenge the way I conceive him. At the moment, he sits too awkwardly between 'something' and 'nothing' for me to be totally bowled over by him. I know that sounds artsy fartsy and lame, but take a look:

Paul Klee, Redgreen and Violet-Yellow Rhythms

Artists like Rothko, Malevich and the others are clearly depicting nothing aesthetic. Their art is all about an idea and theirs are among my favourite artworks because of that. Similarly you have amazing artists like George Bellows (click here for more about than'un) and the Impressionists, who soak up the world around them and pop it on a canvas. 

Mark Rothko, No. 14

But there's something that makes me feel uneasy about Klee. Is he doing one or the other? Why/why not? I guess I'll find out this weekend. If you've been to the Tate Modern show, holla at me in the comments, I'd love to know what you thought.

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